All I Ask of You
by mystic-angel1
Summary: She sometimes wondered what it would be like to touch him, if his skin would feel as pale and wounded as it looked, if the world of pain and darkness, ash and urine that he had so long known would somehow transform her into a creature of his likeness.


**All I ask of you.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own KH or FF7, Phantom of the Opera, or any sort of jail or Valentine's Day or…um…well, I do owe some soup, just not the kind used in this story cause it would be old and narsty by now. Chah.**

**A/N: This was written for the Valentines Day contest on Debeo Memoria, (search Debeo Memoria's profile on which is an RP site you should most definitely check out. I think it sucks, (the fic, not the site!)but its okay because it's a contest. So, have fun, and I hope the sadness I kinda tried to create didn't totally flop!**

**History Note: The reason I wrote this fic for Valentines was because there is one story of the history of Valentines Day which states that a man in jail wrote the very first love letter ever signed as "Be My Valentine" to a woman he was in love with, assumed to be the jailkeeper's daughter, the moment before he died. I kinda played off of that, but only slightly. **

* * *

_Say you love me every waking moment,  
turn my head with talk of summertime...  
Say you need me with you now and always...  
Promise me that all you say is true -  
that's all I ask of you..._

It somehow broke her heart each time she came upon it; that something so flawless could be so revoltingly treated, that someone so beautiful could be locked away in such a dark place. She would never remember the first time it was, but that was nothing of substance because he was always unchanged, always the same. Wrapped in a wet blanket of darkness and cold, head resting against the bitter iron bars that kept him so enslaved, the boy who was once so feared sat broken and breathtaking, singing softly through chapped and barely parted lips of things he had never known and probably never would. She sometimes wondered what it would be like to touch him; if his skin would feel as pale and wounded as it looked, if the world of pain and darkness, ash and urine that he had so long known would transform her into a creature of his likeness. Sometimes she wished it. Often times she feared it.

"Dinner time." She murmured softly, placing the tin tray laden with dry bread and stale wine against the cold, stone floor and sliding it underneath the bars. "I tried to get some butter for you but…"

"Don't worry." Was all he said, white and trembling hands pulling the food towards him. She crouched by him and waited while he ate, the sounds of such hunger and desperation for food that was so evidently poor turning her stomach and her heart. She waited for him to speak, but he said nothing even after he was finished, didn't even sing. He simply sat with his head against the bars, eyes lowered, silver fringe falling carelessly over his face. Again her heart stirred and her hand took life, reaching up through the cold air and hovering inches before his face.

"Yuffie!" She jumped and he looked up, green eyes fearful and startled at her movement. They stared at one another and in half an instant she was standing, moving her way down the hall, past the cells of all the other prisoners, hurrying towards her caller and trying with all she had to forget the tremor in her hand and the heavy gaze against her back.

_All I want is freedom,  
a world with no more night...  
and you, always beside me,  
to hold me and to hide me... _

"You have a pretty voice." She told him once, watching the soapsuds curl and burst against the stone as she swiped a mop across it. Always asked to clean the outside but never the in. "But I don't understand what you're saying. What language are you speaking?"

"I don't know." Came his soft reply, his hands gripping the bars tightly. She wondered if he was trying to remember the sweet smell of soap. "I only know the words."

"Oh." She nodded and maneuvered the mop just so, hoping to perhaps leak at least a little of the cleanliness underneath the bars. "Well, what do you _think_ it means?"

"Dunno." He murmured again, and she could see from the way his eyes fell and his hair did too that he was trying to crawl back into himself. She watched him try, leaning all her weight against the mop in her hand, wondering if she should let him and not really wanting to.

"Come on." She persisted gently, playfully. "Dig deep in your imagination. What's the song telling you? Look into your heart."

"I don't have a heart." He whispered, and his head had tilted so low and his voice was so quiet that her breath escaped her. She made quick work of the floor and grasped the bucket handle, sweeping it off the floor and hurrying down the hallway, away from his deathly quiet and frightening words, away from his eyes and the words that pushed soundlessly from his lips as he watched her leave all over again.

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime...  
say the word and I will follow you_...

"It's _English_." She informed him playfully, maybe a day, maybe a month or a year later. She set his tray of food down before him and straightened, striking a proud stance that was all hands and hips, watching cautiously for any sign of a smile or a lie. She found neither. "Where did you learn an English song?"

"Nowhere." Came the disobliging answer she'd fully expected, trembling hands reaching through the bars to grasp at the tray she'd purposely left one stroke too far. Partly because she was testing herself, mostly because whatever she'd thought had sprung up between them was leaving her unsatisfied and she wanted more. She wanted to know him, who he was, _why_ he was. And he wasn't going to get what he wanted until he gave her the answers.

"What's your name?" She asked, crouching down to his eye level and placing a careful hand on the edge of the tray. Fathomless green eyes widened and then chilled, darting between each one of hers in an effort to know if what she was playing was real. It was.

"Riku." He said, his voice louder and clearer, warmer but cooler than she had ever heard it. "What's yours?"

She pushed the tray a little closer. "Yuffie. Where are you from?"

"An island." He replied, fingernails scratching against the stone as impatience won over restraint. She pushed the tray just beyond his reach, and the tiny sound of lost hope regained and inexplicable pain that escaped him at the sight and smell of the hearty soup and fresh milk she had illegally provided was not something she had included in her plans. The grip that held so tightly on to her heart twisted harder than ever before and she pushed the tray into his grasping hands and gasped as tear drops fell on to her skin.

"You're freezing." She whispered hoarsely as all her previous misgivings were lost and she took one of her hands in his. The touch was colder than she had ever felt and worse than ice, and to give anything in the world to stop his tears was lost as she wrapped her headscarf tightly around his hands to keep them warm and his tears fell ever harder. She reached her warm fingers between the bars, and did not even give the dark ash a solitary thought as she drifted them over his soft chin and tear soaked cheeks, as their lips met without consequence and they kissed with passionate abandon, gripping the cold iron bars and trying to become one through a barrier that would eternally keep them apart.

"Yuffie!"

She pulled back and their eyes met and held, trembles born from their parted lips consuming the rest of them as she stood, heart beating and lips swollen, lost at the innocence and light she saw in his eyes despite who he was and what she'd just experienced. He wanted her to stay. But she…

"I'll be back." She whispered, moving away.

"When?" He gripped the bars tighter than ever before and looked at her.

"Tonight." She said, knowing something as it clicked inside her mind and heart.

She hurried away.

_Share each day with me,  
each night,  
each morning..._

"Riku." She whispered harshly into the dark, terrified of waking the other prisoners, of who was keeping them there, of what she was about to do. Shadows shifted and become real, silver hair shining in the moonlight as he crawled to the bars and reached between them to reach for her. She kissed him breathlessly and pulled away, pressing her demise into his headscarf wrapped hand. He opened his palm and stared at the single, black key resting against his skin, breath becoming harsh as he teared his eyes away to look at her in the dark. Her breathing was just as quick as his hands lifted to touch her face, tilting to the side so she could desperately kiss his palm. "Go."

"They'll kill you." He whispered, his touch becoming less gentle. "They'll know. The others will tell them."

"I don't care." She breathed, backing away from his touch. "If it means—"

"Come with me." He stood up, and she was startled at the sight. "Go now. Meet me somewhere." She was left to gape wordlessly as he faded back into the shadows, returning a moment later with a dewed and mold-stained piece of parchment clutched tightly in his hands. He passed it to her, kissed her, breathed a single word against her lips. "Go."

**Yuffie, **

_Say you love me every waking moment,  
turn my head with talk of summertime...  
Say you need me with you now and always...  
Promise me that all you say is true -  
that's all I ask of you..._

_All I want is freedom,  
a world with no more night...  
and you, always beside me,  
to hold me and to hide me..._

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime...  
say the word and I will follow you..._

_Anywhere you go let me go too...  
Love me - that's all I ask of you..._

**Destiny Islands.**

"Yes." She whispered, folding the parchment carefully in her hands. The ocean growled and seagulls called, the rough warm of tree skin beneath her fingers, and as warm hands touched her shoulders and arms slipped around her waist, she smiled. "Yes."


End file.
